Nevermore
by HanyouNeko-Chan
Summary: The start of the actual Hunger Games told from Cinna's point of view.


**Disclaimer:** The hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins - this is merely a fanfic.

**A/N:** My first actual attempt at writing in First Person ... This is told strictly from Cinna's point of view!

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Fear doesn't even begin to describe how I felt as I watched Katniss rise into the arena. She looked calm and collected; but I knew burning deep down inside her was sheer terror. I knew thoughts must be cluttered in her head right now; "will I make it out alive?"; "will I be the one to kill Peeta?"; "is Prim watching?" … I felt a pang of pity for her; I didn't want to see her get hurt. I've attended several of these Games in the past – being a tribute stylist and all, it was kind of mandatory – but this is the first time I have ever been so afraid for the life of a Tribute. Perhaps it was the fact that – unlike all the others – this girl was different – she didn't argue with me – she didn't jeer towards me – she didn't frown in disdain when she saw me. Rather; she smiled at me and she complied with me – I knew we were going to be good friends.

Where has the time gone? It feels like I've only met her a few hours earlier; it feels like I'll be losing my best friend soon. I felt so joyous; so happy when I met her and had the pleasure of getting to know her. I thought to myself; _if this girl lived in the Capitol, I could see us becoming close …_ But no. She lives in District Twelve – and now I have to watch her die on live television. My stomach churned at the idea and I began to feel faint. Katniss Everdeen was going to die – and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

"Cinna."

Portia's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned my head towards her – she looked just as worried as I did; if not more – and I could see the anxiety in her eyes. I try to force a reassuring smile, but I know my attempt had failed drastically – she just frowned. We stared at each other for a long while; neither of us feeling obligated enough to speak. There's no need. I know what she's thinking just as well as she knows what I'm thinking. We're both worried – scared to death, actually. Just like I with Katniss, Portia grew attached to Peeta; and she doesn't want to see him die.

Finally, I spoke.

"Only one of them gets to live."

My voice came out hoarse and shaky – on the verge of cracking.

She just gave me a wary smile and put her hand on my shoulder. "It's likely both of them will die …" She murmured, her gave lowering to the floor. "I'm scared, Cinna …" She whispered. "I know I shouldn't be but …" She trailed off. I felt a frown tugging at the corner of my lips and I proceeded to wrap my feeble arms around her – in hopes of comforting her.

"I am too …" I whispered in her ear. We stood in each other's arms for the longest time, neither of us willing to move. Suddenly; the gong rang out and people began cheering. I stiffened and I felt Portia go limp in my arms. I tried to hold her up as I attempted to keep my own two legs from giving out. My heart lurched as I heard her begin to sob quietly, and I will myself to keep from doing the same. Men don't cry. They shouldn't cry. There's no way I could cry. I can't cry – I have to stay strong for Katniss. I have to …

As my legs gave out from under me and Portia and I fell silently to the floor, I felt tears begin to roll down my cheeks. I kept my green gaze fixed intently on the floor as the tears came, landing on the linoleum with a soft "plip." I shuddered slightly and looked at Portia, who was staring me through tears eyes. Her make-up was running and she just looked like a mess. I felt compelled to reach out to her; to help her in any way I could. So I did.

I brushed my soft fingers against her cheek, gulping silently. "There's always a chance he'll win …" I reminded her. She gave a soft, almost genuine smile.

"He has twenty-three other tributes he has to watch out for. What's the chance of him surviving?" She asked me. Rather than answering, I just sighed. I pulled away from her, my palms resting on my lap. My vision was becoming blurry as the tears came quicker now; I could hardly see anything. I frantically blinked in an attempt to clear my eyes of the bothersome salt water. I flinched as several cannons suddenly went off, reverberating through the air. I hoped – oh how I hoped – that Katniss wasn't one of those people. Part of me knew she wasn't; knew she was safe; but the other part of me – the more pessimistic side – feared the worst had happened.

"Get off the ground!" I heard a voice growl behind me. "And stop being so melodramatic!" I raised my head and craned it back, staring up at a man of the Capitol. His skin was dyed a light lilac and he had eyes the color of ice – his lips painted the same color with lipstick. When I didn't answer, he continued to scold me. "Honestly; it's disgusting and degrading! What do you have to cry about anyways; it's not like you're going to die out there!" He was fierce; I had to give him that. "Be a man and suck it up!" He then did something I least expected – he extended a hand to help me up. I took it gratefully and let him help me to my feet.

"Really, I expected as much from a woman like her-" He gestured to Portia who was currently rising to her feet – with help from an Avox girl "-but from a man?" He sneered at me. "That's simply pathetic." He spit the word out like venom and – despite my obvious displeasure – I remained calm as he continued his useless little rant. I placed a gentle hand on his chest and looked up at him – he immediately stopped rambling on and stared down at me in surprise.

I flashed a meek smile and parted my lips to speak. "It may be pathetic …" I murmured, my voice hardly audible. "It may be wrong for a man to cry; I may be acting melodramatic but … You've never met Katniss Everdeen; you can never understand how I feel … Why I feel this way …" He smirked, pushing him lightly to the side. I proceeded to walk away, a strong, proud, defiant – and totally fake – smirk blossoming on my face. I glanced back at him and shrugged at him, my green eyes twinkling with contempt.

I glanced at the screen that was playing the Hunger Games and I caught a glimpse of Katniss. Hope suddenly surged inside of me and a grin molded into my features. _She's going to win this._ I told myself – I would never doubt her. She was Katniss Everdeen; the girl who was on fire …


End file.
